


adrift

by erimins



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Mentions of Pregnancy and Parenthood, No Pregnancy, Nudity, Suggestive Themes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erimins/pseuds/erimins
Summary: in an alternate universe, pirates rule the seas. captain jean kirstein is well known far and wide and you’re lucky enough to call him your own. through hardships and pain, will you two prevail?
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	adrift

**Author's Note:**

> hihi!! this is my first time writing anything this long so i’m pretty excited about it. i really enjoyed this plot line and decided to make it a multi part fic rather than just a oneshot. any and all feedback is much appreciated! i hope you guys enjoy. <3

_ he only docked in your local port 4 times a year. his arrival came around a fortnight before the solstices, and he’d leave soon after. it was a reliable schedule and was one you’d come to trust. the townsfolk had become quite familiar with the ship he’d lovingly named maria. your town was one of the few he’d taken a liking to. it was spared from the troubles that typically accompanied pirates, to which you were thankful. _

you awoke at the crack of dawn. shouts and hollers poured through your bedroom window, rousing you from your deep slumber. they were back. he was here. it was practically a race to see how fast you could dress. with your shift already on, you dragged up your stockings hurriedly before slowing a bit to lace your stays. once dressed, you tore out of the house.

your feet pounded against the cobblestone streets as you sprinted towards the harbor. the magnificent ship was already in your view. the excitement of seeing him again made your heart thud against the confines of your chest. you stumbled to a stop, gasping to catch your breath. with frantic eyes, you looked around, desperate for a glimpse of the man you called your own. he wouldn’t be hard to spot. at his height, he stood out without even trying. 

“have they disembarked?” you called to no one in particular. you hoped you hadn’t missed much.

“we have, my dear,” a familiar voice replied. 

your eyes widened as you spun around to face him, a bright smile plastered across your face. “you bastard. i’ve missed you,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

he laughed softly and held you close, his chin resting on the top of your head. “i’ve missed you too, darling.”

jean kirstein, stallion of the seas. he was notorious for being the quickest and most cunning captain the world had ever seen. there were few who could rival his skill and precision. there was not a port town that did not know his name. of course, there were certain connotations that accompanied the name of captain kirstein. some spoke his name like a curse, bitter and dripping with malice. he was not a friend to those in high places. some even called him a villain or vigilante. a snake. a fox. a ne'er-do-well.

but to you, he was a hero. you spoke his name like a prayer, words of admiration accompanying every syllable. there was never a time that you sat idly by while people spoke down upon him. luckily, the people of your town respected the captain. many people here considered him a savior. he bolstered the weakened economy and gave the town such a name that no one dared intrude or attack. for as tiny as the town may be, it was known far and wide to allies of the lovely captain.

leaning back to look up at him, your hands reached forward to cup his jaw. he looked more rugged since you’d last seen him, eyes and hair equally wild. the scruff on his chin was darker and more pronounced. he was stunningly handsome. you sometimes thought he was far too handsome to lead the life he lived, but that was a thought you kept private. he was far too in love with the sea to ever let it go. 

you’d met jean when you were fresh-faced twelve-year-olds, both too naïve and wide-eyed to have any idea what the world held. being the daughter of the town’s lighthouse keeper, you were familiar with the faces of the sailors. it had been a surprise to see a boy your age, brought on as a powder monkey, stumble along the docks. seven years later and he still came back, bringing treasures and stories from abroad. whether he came back solely for you, he wouldn’t say, but you’d like to believe that was the case. 

“you look good,” you whispered, bringing your thumbs to rest in the hollows of his cheeks. 

he smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “were you expecting me to look bad?” he gibed, taking your hand in his. 

“no, of course not. but the long hair suits you, makes you look charming,” you said sweetly, following behind him as he led you away from the crowd. 

“charming is the last thing i’d ever call myself.” he turned a corner, practically dragging you with him. 

you knew the destination of course. jean kept a small home away from the craggy coastline. you weren’t even sure if his crew knew about it. it was one place that you and he could share uninterrupted. you’d always spend the first day together, tucked away from prying eyes. he had business in the town center, but he put that aside to devote his attention to you. 

“how much do you have to take care of tomorrow?” you asked, coming to a stop as he fished his key from the pocket of his breeches. 

“not much, actually. just a few trade deals and some ordering. i’ll have plenty of time to be with you,” he replied, pushing the wooden door open. 

jean stepped inside, waiting for you to join him before he closed and locked the door. immediately, his hands were on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“oh, how i’ve missed this,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

your hands curled into the lapels of his heavy doublet coat, the brass buttons cold under your touch. his touch was needy and desperate; his fingertips were practically bruising against the skin of your waist despite the layers of fabric. jean tasted faintly of liquor, but there was a spiced undertone to it. it was something you were unfamiliar with, but it was warm and pleasant, encouraging you to melt deeper into his grasp. he pulled back from your lips, trailing kisses from your jaw to your collarbones. 

his teeth nipped gently every few inches, making you whine softly and tighten your hold on him. you could feel his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your throat as he bit harder. your hands flew to his sandy brown locks, pulling gently. he pulled back, his cheeks flushed pink. jean guided you to the small sofa before laying you back against it. his body hovered over you, framing you against the piece of furniture. his hands were on your hips now, securing you below him. 

jean recaptured your lips, tugging gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. you gasped at the sensation, allowing him entry. his tongue moved against yours roughly. it was hot and wet, making your heart race. the feeling of it all was completely foreign to you, but you didn’t want it to stop. his calloused hands moved up to hold the sides of your face, practically guiding you through the motions. he pulled back after a while. his lips glistened in the dim light of the room; it was enthralling. 

jean’s eyes were frenzied as he caught your gaze. his pupils were blown, nearly obscuring his irises. he trailed his right hand down your body, snaking it under your skirts before resting it on your inner thigh. his fingertips were rough against the sensitive skin, causing chills to race up your spine. he slid his hand further up, ghosting over your most private areas. just the idea was making your head fog, practically intoxicated at the idea. 

he glanced at you again as if asking permission, to which you bit your lip. you’d promised yourself to him the moment you’d turned sixteen. it was three years since then and you still hadn’t wed. you weren’t as straightlaced as some of the other women in town, but there were some things that you believe should be upheld, at least to an extent. not to mention the idea of him taking you in that way was daunting.

“jean, please. you know we shouldn’t,” you whispered breathlessly. your eyelashes fluttered as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck. 

he withdrew his hand from beneath your skirts and rested it back on your waist, left hand still lovingly caressing your cheek. “alright, my love. at least have a bath with me then? hmm?” he asked, tilting your chin up with his thumb and index finger. 

a smile spread across your face. “yes, actually. that sounds lovely,” you said, placing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. 

jean stood from the couch, pulling you gently to sit up. “i’ll go get that ready then. i brought gifts back,” he murmured, already disappearing from the room. 

you had to admit that the sound of gifts was exciting. he always brought back beautiful treasures, each with a story behind them. when he returned before the winter solstice, he’d come bearing jewels and riches of indescribable worth. his favorite, which he had chosen especially for you, was a pendant necklace with a large, deep green crystal. he had a similar one in the form of a brooch that he wore over his heart. 

he had told you the stone was called an emerald and that it was particularly valuable. jean said that he had received it as a gift from the queen of a far away nation as a thank you for his economic services to her land. the necklace still sat nestled against your chest as you hadn’t taken it off since you’d received it. 

his heavy footsteps drew you out of your thoughts as he sat back next to you on the couch, draping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him. “the water will take a bit to cool down from boiling,” he whispered into your hair, his hands lazily trailing up and down your arms. 

“that’s no problem. tell me stories of your journey,” you hummed, gazing up into his hazel eyes. 

he smiled softly and left a kiss to your cheek before pulling you into his lap to straddle him. your knees sat on either side of his hips and he rested his hands on the small of your back. 

“picture this, my dear: we’d just set sail out of hizuru and another ship pulled up on us. now, i was unfamiliar with it, but i could tell they were hostile. definitely not people to mess with. the captain of the other ship came to the starboard side and declared that they were the ship  _ marley _ and that he was captain zeke. now here’s where it gets interesting,” he paused for a moment, studying your intrigued expression with a smile. 

“oh, do go on,” you pressed, hands fiddling with the linen material of his shirt. 

he nodded. “well this captain zeke demanded payment for using hizuru’s ports. this was the first time anyone’s ever demanded a payment from us so of course i was a bit taken aback. so in return, i demanded to know who he thought i was talking to him in that way.” 

your eyes widened at his words, knowing things couldn’t have possibly gone well. you adored jean, but he could be arrogant at times. that was not the best for situations with other pirates. sometimes you were surprised that he hadn’t gotten himself killed yet. 

“don’t worry, my love, nothing too bad happened. however captain zeke took offense to my words and sent his quartermaster after us. this great big blond man. a real brute. and so now we have this strange, angry man on  _ maria _ demanding us to pay up or else. me being me i refused,” he said, laughing at his own words. 

“jean,” you warned, brows furrowed in concern. you knew something wasn’t going to end well in this story. 

“shhh,” he pressed a finger against your lips and continued. “well the big lad wasn’t all too happy and he took a shot at me and marco.” he slipped a hand under his shirt, pulling it up to expose his rib cage. sure enough, a rough-edged pink scar stood proud against his fair skin. 

you traced a finger over it gently, a frown on your face. you didn’t like when he returned home with more wounds. you didn’t like worrying about him while he was away and you were sitting at home helpless. 

“aww, don’t fret, my pet,” he crooned, sympathetically rubbing your back. “armin got us out of there quick as a whip. that man’s the best damn sailing master i’ve had the pleasure of knowing. though i do hope we never have a run in with those bastards on  _ marley _ ever again.” 

“you shouldn’t be so brash,” you whispered, fingers still soothing over his scar. “it worries me when you return home injured.”

“you can’t possibly expect me to keel over and show the bastards my belly though,” he protested. “i wouldn’t be respected if i let other men walk all over me like a coward.”

with a gentle, you nodded, knowing his words were true. “just be careful next time. i need you to come back to me.” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him sweetly. 

jean kissed back, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. it was more gentle than before; his actions were more like a spring rain rather than a summer storm. he pulled back after a moment, looking you in the eyes, his gaze serious. 

“i will always come home to you. no matter what. i swear it.” he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear before shifting out from under you to stand and help you to your feet. “it should be ready by now. let’s see,” he said, guiding you towards the bathroom. dipping his pinky into the tub, he nodded before shrugging his doublet off and hanging over a hook on the door. 

you had no real reason to be shy around him in a state of undress. he’d seen you this way many times before, but it definitely had been awhile. he dragged his own shirt over his head before working his fingers under your own clothes. nimble fingers unlaced your handiwork, tossing your stays to the side before practically tearing you out of your skirts and shift. he grumbled something under his breath about ‘too many layers’ and ‘needless modesty’ to which you just laughed. he was a fan of the more progressive ideals for women’s clothing. 

finishing undressing himself, he withdrew a small parcel from his coat pocket. “scented soap from the islands,” he said, holding it out to you. 

you took it eagerly, inhaling the sweet, delicate scent. you had no idea what flowers or herbs went into it, but it was beautiful. it was one of your favorite things that he’d bring back. you only hoped that this time he’d brought a few more bars, you’d resulted in using a simpler soap, but it was nowhere near the same. 

“i love it. you always pick the best kind,” you murmured, tensing a bit as he took your hand to help you into the heated water. the temperature change was a bit of a shock. you never had your baths this hot. 

he laughed softly at your reaction, settling against the side. “what? too warm?” he teased, using a hand to soak his upper body. 

“yes, too warm,” you quipped back. “you’re practically boiling us.” 

he simply laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “i didn’t know you were so sensitive,” he said, lathering up a washcloth with the floral soap. 

you took the cloth from his hands, gesturing for him to turn around so you could wash his back. “i’m not sensitive. just particular,” you hummed, running the sudsy material over his shoulders once his back was facing you. 

jean sighed at the feeling, the muscles in his back rippling as he relaxed back into your touch. you took your time, fingertips deliberately searching for knots to be worked out. as much as you knew he adored his work, you knew it was stressful. this had become a routine between the two of you. whether in the bath or curled into each other, you’d take the time to relax the tension that sat heavy on his spine. 

he cursed under his breath as you worked your fingers into a particularly tight spot. his knuckles went white as he gripped the side of the tub. you knew without looking that his brows were furrowed tightly and that he was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. once the knot loosened under your touch, he exhaled deeply, shoulders sinking slightly. 

“fucking hell, love. you’ve got magic in those damn fingers,” he mumbled, dropping his hands back into the water. 

“i don’t think it’s magic. i just know you all too well,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck before continuing to run your hands over his back. 

jean turned around after a moment, gripping your upper arms with his large hands. “your turn.” he turned you around, loving how you laughed at the action. taking the cloth from your hands, he rubbed sudsy circles into your skin, humming a tune quietly under his breath. 

you quirked an eyebrow when he snuck a hand to your front, fingertips brushing over your exposed breast. “don’t be a brat,” you murmured, sliding his hand away. 

he pressed his chest into your back, scruffy chin resting on your shoulder. “apologies, m’lady,” he chirped, feigning a horribly proper accent. 

“you really are a mess,” you whispered, bringing up a hand to rest on his cheek. 

“i think that’s why you love me so much,” he said, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you into his lap. 

he returned his chin to your shoulder, letting his eyes slip closed. if you turned your head slightly, you could see the way his dark lashes rested against his sun kissed cheekbones. 

his words were true. sure, he was charming and kind and more respectful than any man you’d ever met, but he was also a walking disaster. and you adored it. everything he called a flaw, you thought was an embellishment on his bright personality. there was not a single thing you’d change about him. you really couldn’t ask for anyone any better to share your love with. 

“i really do love you,” you said, twirling the ends of his hair between your fingertips. 

“i know, my darling. i love you too. probably more than you’ll ever know,” he replied, his mouth right by your ear. 

he snaked his arms tighter around your waist, drawing you closer into his touch. you could feel his heartbeat against your spine as he pressed gentle kisses to your shoulders and neck. 

flattening his hand against your belly, he tucked his face deeper against your neck. “do you ever think about our future, my love? maybe having a family of our own?” 

your eyes widened at the question, understanding the implications behind it. a family. children. it was a lot. “i’m not raising children alone, jean,” you said, resting your hand over his. “you’re never home. it wouldn’t be fair to them to not have a father.” 

he nodded. “i know. i’d quit. pass  _ maria _ to eren. he’s been itching for it anyway.” 

you froze. he’d quit? give up his ship? give up his livelihood? reject one of his loves? all for you? it made your head spin just thinking about it. “jean, you don’t have to. i’m perfectly happy the way things are. you don’t need to do it for me.” 

he smiled against the skin of your neck, shaking his head. “not just for you, for me. it gets lonely without you. the boys have a woman at every port, and i only have you. i miss your company.” 

he’d never been so open about his feelings before. you knew he loved you of course, but not so much so that he missed you that dearly. not to the extent that he’d change his life around to stay with you. it almost made you want to cry. 

“well, i’ve already promised myself to you. it might as well happen eventually,” you said, your fingers lacing through his. “when?” 

jean turned you around to face him, his hands cupping your face. “one more trip and i’m all yours. i need to tie up loose ends and i’ll never leave you again. we’ll be married by summer and hopefully you’ll be with child before autumn,” he said, his eyes practically sparkling. he’d obviously thought heavily about the subject. 

“so be it. i’ll make preparations with sasha. she’s been eager to see us together ever since she and connie tied the knot,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

he kissed you back, hands gripping your hips. he broke away after a moment, his eyes glued to yours. “you’ll be the most beautiful wife the world has ever seen. and the best mother too. i just know it,” he said. 

“i look forward to it, captain. it’ll be your most exciting adventure yet,” you teased, resting your forehead against his chest. 

pulling you back to pepper your face all over with kisses, he tilted your chin up to face him fully. “oh, i’m sure it will be.”

jean shifted to continue his previous actions of washing your body, pausing every once in a while to trail kisses across your shoulders or down your arms. you could only sit there with the biggest smile on your face as you watched your husband to be shower you with the sweetest of affections. 

“it’ll be lovely to wake up to you every morning. seeing you first thing will make every one of my days better,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your ear. 

“you really are a hopeless romantic,” you hummed, your cheeks hot and flushed at the small confession. his way with words always had you flustered, making you feel almost nervous in his presence. not in a negative way at all, but more so in a way that further proved how astronomically in love you were with him. you weren’t even sure how it was possible to love someone so much. 

“can you blame me, my dear? you’re the most wonderful woman i’ve ever met. of course i’ll be hopeless around you,” jean said, meeting your gaze. “aw, you’re blushing.” he pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat radiating from it. 

you turned away from him, a soft smile on your face. “if you’d stop being so lovely, i wouldn’t be.” 

he pulled you flush against his bare chest, gazing into your eyes. “well maybe i should be more lovely. you’re cute when you’re all embarrassed. i didn’t think you were so bashful,” he teased. 

you frowned, narrowing your eyes. “i’m not bashful. you just make me all nervous and jittery.” 

he laughed, causing both of your bodies to shake softly. jean leaned down to kiss you gently. “that’s because you love me, darling.”

smiling and pressing back into his touch, you shrugged. “i can’t say that you’re wrong. i truly love you. probably more than i’ve loved anyone.” 

“i love you too, my angel. but really? more than anyone? what about your family?” he asked, dancing his fingers down your spine. 

“it’s a different type of love. of course i love them, but being with you is different. my chest gets all hot and my knees get shaky and i just want to give up everything to be around you,” you admitted. 

jean smiled warmly, adoring the way you spoke. “you just know exactly how to speak to me, don’t you?” he caressed your cheek gently, brushing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip before kissing you feverishly. 

you threaded your fingers into his hair, nails curling lightly against his scalp. he sighed happily against your lips, his grip on your waist bruising again. your heart pounded aggressively and you were sure he could feel it against his chest with how tightly pressed together you were. jean tangled his legs with yours, both of you melting into the other. 

kissing him was reminiscent of being hit by ocean waves. it was overpowering and intense, sometimes leaving you gasping for air when you’d finally surface. he was determined and deliberate in his touches, keeping you two entangled as you pushed and pulled against each other. hands slipped and slid over the panels of your respective bodies, touching and holding anywhere they could reach. 

he pulled back first; his hands moving to take yours as your fingers interlocked. “i’ll never get tired of that,” he murmured, the tip of his nose brushing softly against your own. 

“hmm, me either. i could die happily in your arms like that,” you sighed, smiling wistfully at him. 

jean smiled and rubbed his hands over your back before kissing the top of your head. he rinsed the remainder of soap from your bodies before he stood and stepped out of the tub. he wrapped a towel around his waist as he drained the tub, offering a hand to help you out. you took it graciously, smiling softly when he draped a towel over your shoulders. jean guided you to the bedroom, encouraging you to sit on the edge of the bed while he rifled through his closet to find clothes for the two of you. you could tell he had no intention of leaving the house again.

slipping the clean shift he handed to you over your head, you settled back against the down-stuffed pillows. you felt more relaxed than you had in months. he crawled in beside you, dressed in a simple nightshirt. jean drew you close to his body, pulling the duvet over the pair of you. looking up at him, you smiled softly. 

“do you have any more stories to tell? ones that don’t involve your injury?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“i do, actually. let me tell you about the lovely nation of paradis and their queen historia. that’s where i received your necklace,” he said, hooking his index finger under the chain of the necklace. “we returned there once again, mostly to see their navy captain. a great big man, very trustworthy, goes by the name of ‘smith’. we were treated to a real feast once he saw the brooches the queen gave us last time.” 

you listened intently, always in awe of what he’d get up to on his adventures. 

“so we’re all sat at this grand table with the queen herself, and she’s asking questions about our journey and things that we’ve been up to. of course i mentioned our run in with the bastards on the  _ marley _ and she says that they’ve been causing her issues as well and that if we ever run into trouble, that she’ll personally send out the  _ rose _ , which is their main naval ship, to help us out.”

you were honestly quite surprised that a queen had taken so kindly to jean and his band of pirates, but you thought it was amazing that he built alliances like that. “so you’re friends with a queen and have her personal protection? i have to say, that’s rather impressive.” 

“isn’t it? she’s a kind woman. i think you’d like her if you met her too,” he said. “maybe i’ll take you some day. she’d make the time to meet the love of her favorite pirate captain,” he teased, watching as you erupted into a fit of laughter. 

“i can hardly imagine myself meeting a real queen. little old me? really?” you asked, tracing patterns against jean’s chest with your fingertips. 

he laughed hard, his chest shaking under your touch. “yes, little old you. i heard she grew up normal, she wasn’t always a queen.” 

“oh? how interesting. i didn’t know things could be that way,” you hummed, fingers still swirling away on his skin. 

“that tickles by the way. and apparently they can. things are different in other places. they have a woman in charge of the queen’s guard too,” he said, smiling faintly. 

“oh really?” you asked, your eyes wide. you’d never heard of such a thing, to have a woman in a position of power like that. “did you meet her? is she interesting?” you pressed, eager to know all you could. 

“yes. very interesting. her name is ymir. she has a very big personality, lots to deal with. i think there’s a little something between her and the queen though,” he replied, eyes gazing at you affectionately. 

“wow,” you murmured. “i think that’s wonderful. i wish things here were more like that. maybe then i could’ve gone on adventures with you,” you said, smiling up at him. 

“you can still come with me, my dear. i promise i’ll take you one day. mark my words, darling. you’ll see the world. i’ll give it to you in the palm of your pretty little hands,” jean whispered, holding you tighter. “i don’t need to be a pirate to show you the beauty the world holds.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and ghosted his thumb over your cheekbones. 

resting your hand against his own cheek, you grinned. “can you even call yourself a pirate if you’re acquaintances with a queen? it seems a bit redundant doesn’t it?” 

jean laughed and ruffled a hand against your hair. “you’re too smart for your own good. i suppose you’re right though. maybe i’m more of a privateer,” he suggested. 

a smile on your face, you pressed a kiss to his jaw, still a bit new to the feeling of his stubble. it was nice though; it made him look older and more worldly. you thought it definitely fit with the experiences and things he’d seen. closing your eyes, you laid your head back on his chest, your hands flat against his sternum. 

“are you tired, my love?” you asked, knowing his journey must’ve been extensive. 

“quite tired, but i don’t want to lose any time i can spend with you,” he murmured, stroking your hair with his free hand. 

you loved how gentle he was with his touches, always careful not to hurt you. for such a large man, especially one who kept himself stocked with weapons at all times, he was incredibly mindful. jean treated you like you were made of glass, delicate and fragile; it was like he feared that pressing too hard would break you and he’d lose you. 

“you can sleep if you need to. i’ll be here the whole time,” you said, kissing gently at his collarbones.

jean wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to lay on top of him. “i know you’ll be here because i’m never letting go.” he kissed you gently, lips feather-light against your own. 

you kissed back, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. “even if you let go, i’ll remain by your side. through thick and thin.” you met his eyes. “i adore you.” 

he tucked your frame tighter against his, his eyes squeezing close. jean had almost wanted to cry at yours words. to know that he was so loved, so important. it was truly all he’d ever wanted. with his mouth muffled slightly by your hair, he spoke again.

_ “you’re like my anchor, my darling, keeping me steady and rooted. without you, i’m adrift.” _

**Author's Note:**

> part two coming: 05.21.2021


End file.
